


Darkest of Dreams

by Darkenmal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Azkaban, Betrayal, Fidelius Charm, Gen, Godric's Hollow, What really happened on October 31
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26862826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkenmal/pseuds/Darkenmal
Summary: Desperate and out of options, Sirius Black is determined to capture Peter Pettigrew at any cost.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my gift to the Harry Potter fanfiction community for all the hours of reading they've given me over the years. Whether you are an author or a commenter or anywhere in between, thanks and please enjoy.
> 
> Also, if you're interested in the artist who designed the cover, please check out her [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/julie_inks/).

# 

# Prologue

_December 5th, 1980. 9 PM._

The Leaky Cauldron was hot, loud, and always packed. Past five o’clock there was barely a seat to be found in the popular restaurant. It was also pleasant. Delicious smells wafted out of the kitchen, making Sirius’ mouth water. The earthy brown walls and floors comforted him, a stark contrast of the sickly green walls of his childhood home at Grimmauld Place. _Anything other than green,_ Sirius thought, inwardly shuddering at the image of his childhood home. _I’d live in a pink house and black interiors if that’s what it took._

Sirius leaned forward on his stool, one elbow against the bar while nursing his butterbeer. He was disguised. His long black hair, elegant clothes, and dark eyes had been replaced with someone decidedly not as handsome as his usual self. It had been some Muggle off the road. A murmured _Accio_ taking a few hairs off his head had been simple. Too simple. It was a violation of everything Sirius stood for.

 _Needs must_ , Sirius thought, sipping his butterbeer as he let himself relax for the first time in a long while. He had been fighting the war for what felt like millennia and it felt like it was going to continue for another thousand years. Even for a Marauder, that was too long.

All too soon, his drink was empty. Sirius frowned and rooted about in his pocket, looking for coins. Upon finding some, he slapped a handful onto the bar counter.

“Oi, Tom!”

The barman, with grey-flecked auburn hair, turned his attention to Sirius. The other nearby patron, a hooded figure with a strangely elegant cane, leaned on the bar. Tom frowned at the pile of coins in front of Sirius, who looked down and smirked.

 _That’s enough for a round or two on me_. Sirius was tempted, but the thought was brushed aside when Tom walked over, cleaning a mug with a white cloth.

“Mr. _Brown_ ,” Tom said, stressing the false name. “Would you like a keg of butterbeer?”

“Just a mug of it,” Sirius said, still smirking as he took two sickles from the pile and slid them forward on the counter. “Two of ‘em.”

“Right you are,” Tom said, taking another look at the coins and shaking his head in bemusement. “Not very _cautious_ , are you?” the barman said. His head moved slightly to his left, over to where the hooded figure was sitting. Sirius stilled for a moment at the reprimand, feeling his smirk that had infuriated so many slide off his face.

_I’m not very smart, am I?_

Sirius nearly jumped when the hooded man sat in the open seat next to him, grimacing as the man lowered his hood and placed his cane next to him. He was hideous, with pockmarks, beady eyes, and gruff hair. If it weren’t for his cloak, he would have taken him for some vagabond.

_Or a drunkard._

“Starting a coin collection?” The man asked, and Sirius stiffened at the cultured voice that did not at all match the man’s grizzled face. The man was smiling in a way that said he knew something you didn’t. Stopping himself from going for his wand, Sirius smiled back instead.

“This is what’s left of it,” Sirius replied. He smiled his soon-to-be-patented Charming Smile and swept all the coins into his hand before shoving them into his pocket. “What can I do for you?”

Sirius glanced about for Tom, but he was gone. Probably off to collect the butterbeer from the cellar. He looked back at the man, who was looking at him with an unnerving intensity. His eyes were hard, and they narrowed when Sirius stared back.

“I have a… proposition for you,” the man said, lowering his voice slightly despite the noisy crowd. “A gesture of goodwill.”

Sirius nodded, replacing his Charming Smile with a look of bored interest. “Go on.”

“Well,” the man began, then stopped as Tom reappeared. “Fresh, cold butterbeer,” Tom said cheerfully, plopping them down in front of Sirius. Droplets of beer frothed out, splashing him.

Ignoring Sirius’ splutters, Tom looked at both men with interest. “Have you been waiting for this man, Greg?”

Sirius blinked at the fake name he had given Tom, momentarily taken aback. “Apparently I have,” Sirius said, nodding back with a faked grin. “Thank you, Tom.”

“Not at all,” Tom said, bowing slightly before he went back to work. Almost immediately, another man across the room yelled for Tom’s attention. Seconds later, Sirius and the man were alone, or as alone as one could get in the most popular restaurant in Magical Britain.

Sirius looked back at the man. He was fiddling with the handle of his cane, a finely made thing with smooth wood and a shining metal top that looked strangely familiar.

“Butterbeer?” Sirius asked, pushing a butterbeer across the bar. At the same moment, he dropped his elbow from the bar and placed his hand on his right pocket where he had put his wand. It would only take him a moment to draw it. “I only ordered two to annoy Tom.”

The man laughed. Once again, Sirius was struck by the richness in his voice that in no way, shape, or form matched his body at all. _Transfigured, perhaps?_

“You do many things that annoy people,” the man said, taking the butterbeer. He did not drink from it. “Sometimes that results in rather… _serious_ consequences.”

Sirius’ hand moved into his pocket and gripped his wand so tightly that he wouldn’t have been shocked if it snapped. “You seem to know me,” Sirius said, “and yet I do not know you. You are…?”

“You know me, but you also know my wife,” the man said quietly. “Your blonde cousin.”

Sirius reared back as if he had been slapped. This had to be Lucius Malfoy—who was married to his blonde cousin, Narcissa. It was incredible to think that Lucius Malfoy, Pureblood Extraordinaire and Most Definitely A Death Eater, was here under disguise? Part of Sirius wanted to laugh hysterically, while another part of him wanted to blow Lucius’ head off with a Reductor Curse.

“Well,” Sirius said. He grabbed his butterbeer and drank from it deeply. After, Lucius took a small measured sip from his own butterbeer. “Well.”

“Well?” Lucius asked, raising an eyebrow. “I have a proposition for you.”

Sirius snorted. He slammed his mug on the counter, smirking at how Lucius’ eyes twitched at the ‘ungentlemanly’ behavior. “Out with it,” Sirius said, leaning languidly on the counter. He looked relaxed, but his boots were pressed firmly against the bar. His hand in his pocket was also still clenched his wand.

Lucius rolled his eyes, a decidedly weird thing to see on the drunkard’s face. “So uncouth,” he said, but stopped himself.

“You are not the only one who enjoys this place,” Lucius said. “From time to time, my… compatriots enjoy some time on their own. That may take them to other places and pleasures, but occasionally we end up here. We have seen you here, as well as a few others, and we have not acted on this information.”

Sirius took a deep breath. There were other Death Eaters here? Watching him with their wands pointed at his back? He could hear Alastor Moody, his old mentor, yelling “ _Constant Vigilance_!” in his head, just as he had when he was in training to be an Auror.

“You have no need to worry _here_ ,” Lucius said soothingly. “That is why I’ve come forward with our proposition.”

Sirius nodded tightly through clenched teeth. His hand in his pocket was shaking. His eyes flew around, looking for potential exits and for potential ways of escape. _They have no_ idea, Sirius thought bitterly, looking at the happy patrons that were drinking and carousing. _This place could turn into a bloodbath at any moment._

He had thought his Transfiguration skills had been up to par for an excursion. With his not-inconsiderable skills, changing his face should have made himself unrecognizable for those who may be looking for Sirius Black. _Apparently not_.

“So,” Lucius continued, either ignorant or utterly indifferent to Sirius’ panic. “We want to make the Leaky Cauldron a… neutral ground.”

“Neutral ground,” Sirius repeated. He shook his head. “What?”

“Neutral ground as in a neutral ground, you fool,” Lucius snapped. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I have had a rather stressing time as of late. I could—”

“What, is torturing Muggles a little too strenuous for you?” Sirius jeered. “Are you here to soak down their blood with some smooth butterbeer?”

Lucius glared and opened his mouth to respond, then paused and sighed again. He almost seemed to shrink in on himself, which made Sirius frown at the idea of the carefully poised Malfoy ever doing such a thing. “You chose your path, Sirius,” Lucius said. For the first time, Lucius seemed to match the body that he was wearing. “I chose mine long ago, and this place is somewhere that I can forget everything for a while.”

Lucius shook himself, and he was the proud pureblood once more, all poise and radiating confidence despite the body that he currently wore. “Do you agree to this proposal?” he asked, his hard eyes boring into Sirius’. “This would apply not just between us, but between both sides. I would have your word that you would tell your… friends, and I in turn would tell mine. No fighting is to be had in the Leaky Cauldron, nor is one side to approach one another.”

“And how am I to know that you’ll keep to your bargain?” Sirius asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. Lucius Malfoy wanted a _break_ from the war? “How do I know that this isn’t some type of trap?”

“You were here on the 12th of November,” Lucius said. He took a sip of his butterbeer and sighed, smacking his lips. “You were also here on the 27th of October, the 15th of September, and many other times as well. Lupin and Pettigrew have also been spotted here numerous times, and both have gone unmolested.”

Sirius’ wand was out of his pocket before he knew what he was doing. His movement was matched by Lucius, and a moment later both men were pointing their wands at each other.

“Sirius,” Lucius said. He held up his free hand in a gesture of surrender, but Sirius kept his wand pointing at Lucius. Slowly, the Death Eater raised his wand away from Sirius and placed it on the bar. “Would you want to see this place destroyed?”

“No,” said Sirius. “I like the Leaky Cauldron. Always have.”

“So do we,” Lucius said, placing his hands on his lap calmly, as if Sirius wasn’t pointing his wand at him. “And we would like to keep it that way. Do you accept?”

For a long moment, Sirius considered the idea of blowing Lucius’ head off. He pictured the wide-eyed surprise, the glee that he would feel at killing the smug arsehole. Then he thought about what would happen next, the fighting, Tom yelling that he would have to pay for it all, more fighting…

“Fine,” Sirius said. He shoved his wand into his pocket and extended a hand, which Lucius took. “I agree.”

“Excellent,” Lucius said, shaking Sirius’ hand and promptly releasing it almost as quickly as he took it. “A pleasure to negotiate with you, Bla—I mean, Brown.”

“You did that on purpose,” Sirius muttered, seizing his mug of butterbeer like a lifeline presented to a drowning man. “To strange agreements.”

“To strange agreements,” Lucius echoed. The two men clanked their mugs together and then drank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At around 16,000 words and 55 pages, this story is already completed. I will be posting a chapter a day, so if you want to read the whole thing in one go, be sure to check back next week. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 1

# Chapter 1

_October 31, 1981. 9 PM._

The Leaky Cauldron was louder than usual today. A group of drunk wizards played Fire Darts in a corner, the ends of the darts exploding like firecrackers if a shot missed. There were bursts of thunderous laughter and too-wide smiles, but they were frequently punctuated by periods of tension-filled silence. Even in the Leaky Cauldron, where people went to forget about the world, there was a palpable feeling of dread in the air. It almost seemed as if people were forcing themselves to act more cheerful to counteract the tension. Despite their efforts, fear lingered, like the Dark Mark after a successful Death Eater raid.

 _Nothing is working_ , Sirius thought moodily as he took a sip of his butterbeer. He played with a strand of his own long dark brown hair, twirling it until it wrapped around his finger. He unwound it and then repeated the action. _We’re losing the war._

The same delicious smells as usual were wafting from the kitchen, but recently Sirius hadn’t felt hungry. He hadn’t felt like doing much of anything, really. All he had done recently was wake up, choke something down, fight, eat the leftovers, and then sleep. Rinse and repeat.

Sirius wanted nothing more than to rent a room under an assumed name and sleep the night away in peace, but too many people needed him. People who were growing fewer by the week, but they still needed him. He would keep fighting until sleep deprivation or death claimed him. Whatever came first.

 _Looks you got what you wished, Lily; I’m finally responsible_.

Sirius shivered. The world was surely coming to an end when Sirius Black deemed himself a responsible citizen. This war was taking everything from him. He hadn’t even been able to prowl with Remus earlier this month during the full moon, and he likely wouldn’t be able to next month either. 

Lily and James Potter, his best friends, had been in hiding for months after that drunkard Sybill Trelawney had made a prophecy. She had since gone into Dumbledore’s protection at Hogwarts, where she would undoubtedly terrify her students with the stench of sherry more than educate them with her so-called Inner Eye.

 _More like her Inner Bottle_.

Sirius leaned back in his seat, staring at the wooden wall and empty table in front of him. He was sitting on the far right of the room, alone in a booth where no one could hear him. He could hear everyone else, though, which had saved him more than once when the Leaky Cauldron had gotten too rowdy for his liking. These days, loud noises usually did that. Someone would cheer during a quidditch game, and every time Sirius barely stopped himself from cursing the lot of them.

“Lily and James Potter live in G—” Sirius found his muttered words cut off, unable to force the rest of the words out of his mouth. He sighed in relief and took a sip of his butterbeer. _Lily and James Potter lived in Godric’s Hollow,_ Sirius thought, finishing what he couldn’t speak. He could say it in his head, at least.

Ever since they had gone under the Fidelius Charm, Sirius had found himself saying that line throughout the day. He wasn’t the Secret Keeper so he couldn’t say the Secret out loud. It was a complicated spell, a spell that only wizards of Dumbledore’s calibre could cast, with the Secret embedded into the Secret Keepers soul. James had begged for Sirius to take it, but he had said no, that he was too obvious.

 _Which I am,_ Sirius thought grimly, slumping back in his seat. He rested his head against the warm wood, momentarily closing his eyes. He was so _tired_. Almost four years of fighting, and the war continued ever onward.

They were losing at the beginning, and they were still losing now. All it would have taken to achieve victory was for a small portion of the population to revolt against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Instead, it was more like one in ten thousand of the population that did so, barely two-score witches and wizards in all.

 _And there’s a spy among us_.

They hadn’t known how long it had been the case, but people were dying that shouldn’t have been. Routine missions, picking up dead drops, visits to family and friends in previously deemed safe locations… nothing was safe anymore.

“Lily and James Potter live in G—”

Sirius was forced to stop again, and even as he choked he felt relief wash through him. Lily and James were _safe_. Even if they were trusting in someone as weak as Peter. What Sirius wouldn’t give to have known if Remus could’ve been trusted or not. As a werewolf they just didn’t _know_. There were so many werewolves who were either sympathetic to Voldemort or had outright joined him. They couldn’t be sure, so he was left out of the loop.

There was a woosh of fire and an accompanying burst of laughter, which jerked Sirius out of his thoughts with a strangled oath. He looked down and saw that his wand was drawn. He had also spilled his mug of butterbeer, which was slowly gushing to the other side of the table. He waved his wand and the spilt mess disappeared.

Sirius looked out of the booth to the bar, where he could see three people on barstools facing away from him. He smiled in relief. No one had seen him. Even under Polyjuice and other Charms (he was arrogant, but not an idiot!) he still had a reputation to maintain. Nothing ever startled or got the better of Sirius Black. Not even himself.

For a moment Sirius debated whether he should get Tom to bring some more butterbeer, but he eventually decided against it. _What’s the use of getting butterbeer if I can’t even enjoy it?_

Instead, Sirius repeated the phrase that he had been mumbling for the past few months.

“Lily and James Potter live in Godric’s Hollow.”

Sirius froze. The Secret was gone. Lily and James were under attack or even dead _right now_. He stood, but it felt strangely slow, like something was holding him down. He looked at the bar from his stall. No one was there. Sirius drew his wand and stepped out of the booth, uncaring of how he looked. He had to exit the Leaky Cauldron and apparate to them. Anti-Apparition Wards prevented him from doing it here, but he would leave as soon as he could.

The moment Sirius stepped out of the stall; dark-green spells were thrown at him. Sirius threw himself to the floor as three _Avada Kedavra’s_ flew through where he had been standing.

“Death Eaters!” screamed a man in bright blue robes, and he was cut down by an average-looking witch with short brown hair and a familiar-looking sneer.

“The wibble man is sqwared of Dweath Eaters!” the woman crooned, and Sirius stepped back even as he deflected spells from a similarly non-descript man. He didn’t seem to be casting too hard, but anyone casting the Killing Curse was casting hard enough for Sirius’ liking.

“Bella,” Sirius said, and the woman stopped casting, her last spell hitting another person in the chest with another Killing Curse.

“ _Cousin_ ,” the disguised Bellatrix Lestrange spat. “You’re mine to kill.”

“So I’ve been told,” Sirius said, affecting a nonchalant tone as he looked around. The Leaky Cauldron was mostly empty now. There were a dozen or so people on the floor, and none of them were moving. Tables had been overturned, more drinks had been spilt, and glass was everywhere. Lots of things to Transfigure if needed. “I have a habit of surprising people.”

“Sirius,” the man next to Bellatrix said. “Our neutrality still stands.”

Sirius laughed, looking about again with his eyes as he did so. Besides Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy, two other wizards were on opposing ends of the entrance with their wands drawn at him.

_Four on one. Not great._

“Doesn’t look like it from here,” Sirius said after he stopped laughing, gesturing to the bodies on the floor. “It looks like our agreement is null and void to me.”

“It still stands if you do not attempt to leave,” Lucius said. The disguised man scratched his chin, which had been splattered with blood. Once again, he had Transfigured himself to look like a drunkard or some other type of reprobate. He had long and greasy brown hair, and he wore ill-fitting clothes that looked as though they had seen better years, let alone days.

“James and Lily—” Sirius started angrily but hesitated as Lucius lowered his wand. Bella smirked, but Sirius ignored that as he stared at Lucius.

“Are in the Dark Lord’s… _care_ ,” Lucius said. He even looked somewhat apologetic. “I cannot let you interfere, Sirius. Still, I didn’t fire the first spell tonight. That—”

“Would be me!” Bellatrix interrupted, cackling. Even wearing someone else’s face, Sirius could see the familiar gleam of madness in her eyes. “The Dark Lord was always going to triumph, Sirius! You should have never joined those filthy Gryffindors and muggle-lovers! You should have followed my Lord like the rest of us!”

“I chose my own path, as did you,” Sirius said. He closed his eyes and raised his wand. “ _Lumos Maxima_.”

Even with his closed eyelids, the light that came from his want was spectacularly bright. Sirius ignored the pained cries as he ran forward shoulder first. He stumbled after slamming into what felt like Bellatrix but managed to right himself and keep going.

“Stop him!” Lucius shouted. Sirius opened his eyes to see the two wizards guarding the door shake their heads dazedly, raising their wands slowly through slitted eyes. One stumbled and almost dropped his wand, clutching his head.

Sirius Stunned one with a wave of his wand and then shot a Disarming spell at the other. The sounds of a body and wand falling to the wooden floor mingled together to create a tinkling thud as Sirius ran past them into Diagon Alley.

Sirius ducked an _Avada Kedvara_ that shimmered with green malevolence as he made his way forward. It was dark, with light from the lamp posts weakly reflecting off the cobblestones. The street was also rapidly emptying; storefronts were closing, and curtains were being drawn.

“Shit,” Sirius panted, looking at the obstacles in his path. It was late at night, and the Alley was deserted. The street now only had horseless carriages that were charmed to make deliveries, including a Transfigured horsedrawn carriage that had been abandoned by its owner. The horse whickered nervously at the sight of him.

“Cousin!” came the shriek from inside the Leaky Cauldron. Sirius doubled his pace, leaping between two carts that were close together. He only needed a second to apparate, but he couldn’t do it with wizards casting Killing Curses at him every few moments. He needed time.

“ _EXPULSO_!” Sirius bellowed, slowing and waving his wand in an arc behind him. The spell—which came out as a grey and yellow bolt of sizzling energy—struck the ground with great force, upending cobblestones and throwing the two carriages to the ground.

Barrels rolled out onto the street, smashing open to reveal vegetables and fruit. Sirius waved his wand again, Transfiguring them all into a pair of large black dogs. They cocked their heads at him attentively, waiting for orders. Despite himself, Sirius grinned at the irony of having two Padfoots at his beck and call. His smile vanished as the first white-masked Death Eater came stumbling out of the Leaky Cauldron.

“Attack!” Sirius snapped. He pointed towards the Death Eater and then bolted in the opposite direction. He heard the dogs bark and howl before turning and leaping at the Death Eaters. They screamed as the dogs bit and scratched at them.

“You won’t get away that easily!” Bellatrix’s voice called, sending an orange spell—which Sirius identified on sight as the _Cruciatus Curse_ —toward him. It just missed, clipping a fountain in the middle of the road. The aftermath sent bits of rock and dust onto Sirius, who coughed as the dust entered his lungs. “Win—” Sirius said, thinking to levitate the horse and throwing it at them. Then, he changed his mind as he saw the glimmering blue water in the fountain. “ _REDUCTO!_ ”

The fountain exploded, and Sirius sent the water with a curt snap of his wrist towards the Death Eaters. They were now standing shoulder to shoulder, wands out and pointing at him.

 _What I wouldn’t give to have Frank and Alice or even a pair of good Aurors at my back right now_ , Sirius thought. Of all the people he would have at his back in a fight besides James and Lily, Frank and Alice Longbottom were at the top of his list.

“Surrender, Sirius,” Lucius Malfoy said. “My wife would be devastated to hear of your demise. Stand down, and you will be treated well.”

“Like James and Lily are being treated well?” Sirius demanded. His eyes were on the Death Eaters, who were stock still. In the corner of his eye, he saw water from the fountain slowly flow toward the Death Eaters. “Do you really think I would abandon them? That I would ever betray them?!”

“One would hope that you would value reason,” Lucius said quietly. “I do this for the love that my wife still holds for you.”

“Yes, Sirius,” Bellatrix said, sniggering. “Do it for Cousin Cissy!”

Sirius stared at them for a long moment. Then, he threw back his head and laughed. “You have no idea,” he said, still laughing, even if he felt little mirth. The irony was too much. “You have no idea what it’s like to have someone you can trust, wholly and completely. You are pathetic, Lucius. You and the rest of your ilk. You’d do anything to save your skin, wouldn’t you? Even if it meant the lives of Narcissa and your own child.”

“I would do anything that my Lord asked of me!” Bellatrix shouted. She ripped her mask off her face, her long black hair flowing behind her. The glow from the lamp light made her look bestial. “I would do anything for him!”

“Would you?” Sirius asked. He smirked and pointed his wand not at the Death Eaters, but at the wet cobblestones beneath their feet. “ _Fuliminis_.”

White lightning exploded from Sirius’ wand, striking the ground. Instantly, the Death Eaters began to scream as they were electrocuted. Through the pain, Bellatrix tried to raise her wand to fire back a curse. At this Sirius snarled and redoubled his focus, pushing every ounce of his anger and might into his spell. The resulting effort added differing hues of blue and orange to it, as well as even more crackling noise.

Bellatrix joined the rest of the Death Eaters on the ground, writhing in pain. Sirius didn’t know what was louder: the crackling of his spell or their screams of agony. For a moment, he wanted to continue the spell until they were nothing but ash and bone, but James and Lily’s faces leapt out at him in his mind. Even little Harry, his godson, he could see, just as clear as the shrieking Death Eaters in front of him right now.

With one last push of energy, Sirius raised his wand over his head and ended the spell. White lightning pierced the sky before the spell finished with a massive _crack_.

Glass exploded up and down the street as the lamp posts shattered, their magic crushed by Sirius’ wild power. The street—which had been well-lit—was immediately cast into shadows. The street was now only lit by the waxing crescent of the moon, which showed the Death Eaters moaning pitifully. None of them in any shape to fight, let alone run.

 _Stupid,_ Sirius thought, lowering his smoking wand. _But worth it_. He couldn’t kill them—Dumbledore had forbidden it—but he could at least make them suffer.

Just as Sirius made to leave, he heard quieter _cracks_ behind him. At least a dozen of them. Sirius turned his head to look back and saw flashes of red robes as men and women ran down the street toward him and the Death Eaters.

 _Aurors_ , Sirius thought, sneering. _Wonderful timing, as always._

Even if the Death Eaters were captured by the Aurors, Merlin knew they would be out by dawn. They would be treated by the wonderful and caring staff at St. Mungos and then promptly released by the traitors within the Ministry.

With a contemptuous look at the smoking Death Eaters, Sirius apparated to Godric’s Hollow with a loud _crack_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you northerncitiesvowelshift and Rhian_rhitsu for the Kudos!


	3. Chapter 2

# Chapter 2

_October 31, 1981. 9:20 PM._

The brown bricked cottage seemed fine at first glance. Even under the Fidelius the grass and front garden was in impeccable shape, as Lily would have wanted. Besides the shattered front door, it looked like nothing had happened. It wasn’t until he looked at the second floor that a hurricane’s worth of damage became evident. The walls—particularly Harry’s room—were all but destroyed. The sight only made Sirius sprint harder towards the cottage.

Sirius had only managed to apparate onto the edge of the property. He had not been thinking straight when he had done so, but now he was glad of it. He had no idea if there were still any traps that had been left behind. Voldemort had probably swept them away with a few waves of his wand, but it always paid to be careful. James had been inventive and Lily… Sirius shuddered. Lily had been devious. She was as brave as any Gryffindor that he had ever known but as smart as any Slytherin. Many Death Eaters had discovered that the hard way throughout the war.

Sirius paused in the doorway, which had been blown apart. “Had been…” Sirius said softly. In the quiet stillness his voice sounded abnormally loud. He shook his head roughly. _I don’t know that yet! They could still be alive!_

Walking through the doorway with his wand out, Sirius stopped when he saw a body. “James,” Sirius moaned. He stumbled to his best friend and fell to his knees. “James,” Sirius repeated. Tears ran down his cheeks, as he reached for and cradled the body of James Potter in his arms.

His glasses were askew. Sirius set them back in place gently as he rocked the body of his best friend.

“Jamie, I should’ve been here, I should’ve…”

There was a cry. It was faint, but Sirius’ head snapped toward it like a hound.

“Harry,” Sirius croaked, and made to stand up. He was still holding onto James’ body, which moved with him bonelessly. His brown eyes were still open and unseeing, staring up at the cracked white ceiling. Sirius swallowed and gently lay James Potter to the ground, crossing his hands over his chest and closing his eyes. He scowled at James’ empty hands. “No wand,” Sirius growled, but it sounded more like a sob. “How could you forget your wand, Jamie?”

James didn’t answer. He would never answer him again. There would never be any more comebacks, wisecracks, jokes, or anything about him that had made him Sirius’ brother in all but blood. He, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily and Harry—

“No,” Sirius growled, taking the stairs two at a time. The wooden floor beneath his feet groaned, as they always did, but Sirius ignored that. Lily and little Harry needed him.

When he reached upstairs, he blinked and almost broke down. The hallway was destroyed. The doors leading to the master bedroom, bathroom, guest room, and Harry’s room were blown inward. Pieces of wood were on the floor, looking as if they had been Transfigured into spears.

A battle had been fought here, brief and vicious. Lily may have never had the technical skill that James had at Transfiguration, but she had always been more powerful. Even when she didn’t have the expertise, she had bent the world to her will.

Sirius trembled, but crept forward. He stepped over plaster and wood, kicking up dust. The Hale Navy walls, something that Lily had insisted on, looked like they had aged a hundred years, their essence absorbed during the titanic struggle between Lily and Lord Voldemort.

Another cry, this time louder and more insistent. Sirius stopped creeping and leapt forward, ignoring the possible dangers. For all he knew Harry was a hostage, or Lily and Harry both, or…

Lily was dead.

She was on the floor, face down, her wand beside her. Her beautiful red hair was like a halo around her. Lily Potter had been wearing her pajamas, hastily Transfigured into battle robes. The Transfiguration was wearing off now, bit by bit, changing from a muted red to the pink sleepwear she had always preferred.

Her wand was beside her, cracked with a bit of its core poking out of it. It still smoked slightly, which meant that Sirius had been too late by less than ten minutes.

Sirius reached toward her but stopped. Just behind here was a bundle of robes and a familiar wand. Voldemort’s wand, the white monstrosity that it was. He whirled, snarling, searching for his foe. Even wandless, he was remarkably dangerous. He had seen the Dark Lord personally put down a half-dozen aurors without a wand, destroying them with the same airy flicks of his wrist that he had done with a wand. He had done it because he could, because it would strike fear into Wizarding Britain. It had, and at great cost.

_Because he was a no-good bastard who didn’t have the grace to return to the hole that he initially crawled out of._

“Pa’fwoot,” said Harry. He was standing in his crib, clad only in a diaper. He was crying and shivering. The crib was probably the only thing standing in his bedroom. The baby blue wallpaper was peeling, the wooden floor looked like someone had decided to start tearing it out, and the wall behind Harry simply did not exist.

Sirius shivered from the cold as he hurried toward his godson, giving Voldemort’s robes a kick as he passed them. He wanted to scream and cry out, to beat his chest and curse the heavens, and he wanted to resurrect Voldemort and kill him again.

 _Harry needs me_ , Sirius thought as he produced a smile for Harry, whose own trembling lips (they were blue, for Merlin’s sake!) smiled happily as Sirius pulled him into his arms.

“Heya!” Sirius said brightly, beaming at him. “Great night for a sleepover, eh?”

At those words, grief roiled within his chest. It was heavy, like a rock dropped in the ocean that kept sinking and becoming heavier. He closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking as he forced back a sob.

_No. I’ll drink myself into oblivion later. Harry needs me._

Sirius repeated the last three words in his mind as he stepped past Lily’s body. He repeated them as he walked down the stairs and past James’ body. He repeated them as he strode out the door, away from Potter Cottage and away from the bodies of his best friends.

All the while, Sirius smiled and talked to Harry like normal. He didn’t really look convinced but seemed desperate enough to want to believe him for now.

_Smart boy. Lily’s kid though, so what did I expect? A Dursley?_

All the while Sirius talked, and nodded and listened to Harry babble back, his godson’s shivering had slowly stopped, and while he was still cold, he was warming up. Sirius idly cast a Warming Charm on him while looking out for threats.

Sirius’ musings stopped as a loud _crack_ echoed through Godric’s Hollow and a massive man appeared right in front of him. Immediately, Sirius began casting, sending a Banisher, a Disarmer, and a Stunner in quick succession. A standard opening to any duel, one which halted as the figure turned away from the spells and cried out.

“Sirius, stop!”

At the familiar voice, Sirius stopped mid-cast. It had been a Bludgeoner, one with enough power to have probably caved Hagrid’s skull in, half-giant heritage or not.

“Hagrid?” Sirius said, shifting so he was standing sideways, Harry in his arms facing away from Hagrid. He was a friend and to be trusted, but one could never be too careful.

“Sirius!” Hagrid cried, stepping forward. He was gripping his pink umbrella tightly and looking about furtively. His huge leather coat looked like it had been thrown on, and his brown hair and beard was more wild than usual. “I just ‘eard the news.”

Sirius raised his wand. Harry shifted in his arms, and Sirius jumped on the balls of his feet, trying to put Harry to sleep or to at least amuse him. He wanted to cast a _Somnius_ and put him asleep, but with a potential enemy in front of him he couldn’t take his wand off him.

“What news is that Hagrid?” Sirius asked. He looked around and saw no one was coming, which was good. With the Fidelius down, an extended duel would draw attention. _I’ll have to make this quick then if he’s under the Imperius._

“James an’ Lily, Sirius!” Hagrid said, walking forward slowly. His eyes narrowed as he saw the bundle in Sirius’ arms. “Blimey, is tha’ little ‘Arry?”

“What did you catch James, Peter, Remus and I doing during the sixth-year exams?” Sirius said harshly, raising his wand up further and flexing his magic slightly. His wandtip glowed, and Hagrid came to a stop.

“Ah… you lot flooded the toilets and the third floor, did yeh not?”

Sirius lowered his wand and nodded. “Yes, we did. Sorry, Hagrid. I had to make sure.”

Hagrid nodded, before his eyes went to Harry, and he sniffled. “James an’ Lily…” he began, but he stopped, unable to continue.

“Yes,” Sirius said, unable to say the words. If he said them it would be real.

“And yeh got little ‘Arry…” Hagrid said, trailing off. He looked at the house and stiffened. “Yeh-‘No-Who?”

“Dead,” Sirius said shortly. Harry shifted in his arm, and Sirius looked down, but Harry’s eyes were closed. He was trying to find a better position and fall asleep. Eventually, he lay his head against Sirius’ chest and breathed deeply.

There was a moment of silence. Sirius stared at Hagrid, while Hagrid’s gaze kept moving from Harry to Potter Cottage and back.

“Why are you here, Hagrid?”

Hagrid sighed. “Dumbledore felt th’ Fidelus fall an’ sent me to investigate. I have portkeys for James an’ Lily an’ little Harry, but…” he trailed off again and sniffed. Tears trailed down his face and into his beard. “They won’t be needin’ ‘em.”

"They won’t,” Sirius said softly before he started. _Peter_. He was the Secret Keeper, and he might still be in terrible danger.

“Hagrid where would you have taken Harry to?”

“’eadquarters,” Hagrid said, turning his tear-streaked face to Sirius. “I was to take ‘em there.”

“Take Harry to Dumbledore,” Sirius said, shifting his arms and waking Harry up. He began to cry, and Sirius shushed him gently and rocked him in his arms. He looked back up at Hagrid, who was looking at them apprehensively.

“The portkeys—”

“Are useless if you deliver Harry straight to the Death Eaters!” Sirius snapped. He walked to Hagrid and held Harry toward the half-giant. Sirius gently placed his godson in Hagrid’s arms, who sleepily smiled up at Hagrid and reached for his beard. “Headquarters isn’t safe, and I’m going to go looking for the traitor. Keep Harry safe, take him to Dumbledore, and do not stop for anyone but him.”

“I can’t!” Hagrid protested. He looked down at Harry who was still playing with his beard. Apparition ain’t safe for little tykes.”

“Right,” Sirius said, nodding appreciatively. He fiddled in his pockets and pulled out a motorcycle that looked like a toy. It fit in the palm of his hand comfortably and was remarkably detailed for such a small model. He pressed a button on its side and tossed it to the ground beside him, where it quickly grew to a full-sized motorcycle with a sidecar.

“Use this, Hagrid,” Sirius said, nodding to his motorcycle. It can fly, and it can fly fast. Don’t stop for anyone.”

To Hagrid’s credit he didn’t ask anymore questions. He nodded and sat on the motorcycle; Harry still bundled in the crook of his arm. Sirius walked around the motorcycle, quickly inspecting it as he hadn’t used it in quite some time. _It’s good,_ Sirius thought, tapping the front of the motorcycle and looking at the projected information regarding fuel, oil, tire weight, and overall condition. _It’s all good_.

“Are yeh sure abou’ this?” Hagrid asked, looking down at Sirius. Even sitting down at the bike, he was taller than Sirius was standing. “He’s yer godson, Sirius.”

“Hagrid, I trust you with my life,” Sirius said, which brought a smile to Hagrid’s face. “Protect Harry with yours. Safe flight, Hagrid.”

“Goodbye, Sirius,” Hagrid said his smile fading as he looked down at Harry. With a sniffle and a nudge of his foot, the motorcycle roared to life, and soon the half-giant and his godson were in the air. Sirius watched until they disappeared behind a cloud.

“Farewell, Harry,” Sirius whispered, grief welling up in him again. He had just given his godson away, not even a half-hour after he had found him. He hoped that James and Lily would understand, but he wouldn’t know. He would never know.

There was another _crack_ of apparition, and Sirius spun. He couldn’t see the individual, but they were close, and coming closer.

 _Time to go home,_ Sirius thought darkly as he spun on his heel and apparated to Grimmauld Place.


	4. Chapter 3

# Chapter 3

_October 31, 1981. 9:43 PM._

Grimmauld Place was as dark and dreary as Sirius remembered it. The low-light hallways and dark green hue peppered everything from the carpeted floors to the walls. It looked like someone had vomited and then promptly decided that it would be an excellent colour palate for the home that they were building.

 _Salazar Slytherin would have loved it here_ , Sirius thought, rolling his eyes. He then threw himself to the ground as a sickly green-coloured spell smashed into the wall where he had been. The portraits that lined the walls squawked and screeched their outrage, but they were all drowned out by one voice louder than the rest.

"SHAME OF MY BLOOD!" Walburga Black screeched as she stepped out of the shadows. The years had not been kind to her. Once her skin had been flawless and her hair a dark lustrous brown. Now she looked old and haggard, like a dirtied brooch that had long-lost its sheen. Her green robes reflected it. They were worn and barely fit to be worn about the house, let outside of it. For someone who was the 'ideal pure-blood', it was quite the fall from grace. "HOW DARE YOU RETURN HERE!"

Sirius opened his mouth to respond but stopped when his mother sent more spells toward him, all of them Unforgivables. He stumbled back toward the doorway, avoiding spells and batting others away that he could not avoid. For some reason, he found himself unable to fight back. He was a child again, being tortured by his mother while the rest of his family watched. Regulus would be crying, Father would be watching, torn between disapproval and horror, and Sirius would be on the floor, twitching and trying not to scream as his skin was being flayed.

"I heard about the Dark Lord," Walburga said, stepping closer to Sirius. Her icy blue eyes gleamed with the same madness that Bellatrix's did. "I heard what he was going to do to the Potters." She laughed, and Sirius found himself standing, his wand leveled at his mother.

"Don't," Sirius said. His wand was shaking and to his own bemusement his entire body was as well. "Don't."

"Or…?" Walburga said, her voice trailing off as a smile crept across her face. "What?"

"I'll fight you, mother, and I will win. I have never fought back against you, which is why Regulus never fought against you either."

Walburga's smile vanished, swiftly replaced by rage. "HOW DARE YOU!" she screeched, and Sirius blinked and resisted the urge to plug his ears. "REGULUS IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Sirius' own amusement died. His body still shook, but now it was with rage. "He loved you," he said softly. Tears welled in his eyes, and he scrubbed them away angrily with his free hand. "He trusted you, mother, and did whatever you asked of him. Join Slytherin, even when he was best suited for Ravenclaw? Done. Make friends with the pureblood fanatics, even though he wanted little to do with them? Done. Anything you asked he did, Mother. He did it for you."

"HE LOVED ME!"

"AND HE DIED FOR THAT LOVE, YOU HORRIBLE HAG!" Sirius roared back. "HE JOINED THE DEATH EATERS AND DIED BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"YOU—" Walburga started but stopped, staring at him with loathing. "You are no son of mine," she whispered. Despite the hatred that he held for his mother; the words came as a blow to Sirius.

"You were never a mother to either of us," Sirius said. His wandarm was now steady, and he took a step forward.

Walburga leveled her own wand at him, sneering. "You are weak," she hissed. "You are unworthy of your heritage and bloodline. I should have killed you long ago."

Sirius' smirk didn't reach his eyes as twirled his wand in his hand. "Try," he said.

The two cast at the same time; their bolts of magic smashing into each other. Hers was _Avada Kedavra_ green. His was a dark red Bludgeoner that would punch through her chest if it reached her.

Sirius grinned. Focusing his magic through his wand, it flowed like a torrent. Green and red shadows flickered off the dull orange walls. Paintings shouted and screamed, begging for them to stop. Some yelled at Walburga, while most shouted at Sirius. They called him a blight to the Great and Noble House of Black for daring to attack his mother. They called him a traitor, a coward, and whatever they thought would affect him.

Sirius ignored it all, taking another step towards his mother. He had never felt so alive when he was in a duel for his life. His smile grew, stretching from ear to ear. His magic was slowly moving toward his mother's, overwhelming her insanity with brute force.

"I will cut your head off and hang it alongside the house-elves!" Walburga shouted. She had begun to noticeably sweat and shake as Sirius' flow of magic neared her wand. "I will cut your heart out and use your blood to kill your blood-traitor friends!"

"You won't hurt anyone else ever again," Sirius spat. With one last heave, his magic tore through the last remnants of her resistance. His Bludgeoner slammed into her shoulder and ripped off her arm. It fell to the ground, hand still clutching her sizzling wand.

Walburga screeched, her other hand flying to where her left arm had been. "YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE! she screamed, even as she began to rapidly pale. "YOU… are…" she crumpled forward, and Sirius watched dispassionately as she fell face first onto the floor. The moment she landed, he cast a Stunner that forced her into unconsciousness.

With a loud _crack_ , a wizened old house-elf wearing a stained pillowcase appeared. He had long droopy ears, a bald head, and beady black eyes. They darted went from Sirius' wand to Walburga, who was bleeding out on the green carpeting. "No, Mistress!" the house-elf cried, sniffling piteously. "Young Master has murdered Mistress!"

"Kreacher," Sirius growled. For a moment he was tempted to cut off the house-elves' head with a sweep of his wand. Kreacher had always worshipped his mother, doing nothing to stop the torture and everything else that his mother desired. He had loved Regulus too, because he had always been a good, dutiful son to their mother.

Sirius sighed, and then cast a few battlefield medicinal spells that would stem the bleeding and keep her in stasis. Another twitch of his wand removed the blood that stained the green carpet. With a start, he realized that none of the portraits were shouting anymore. It was silent except for his mother's harsh breathing and his own measured breaths.

"Your… mistress will not die tonight," Sirius said with a calm that he did not feel.

Kreacher said nothing, his eyes wide with something like hope as he stared at Sirius' wand. "Will nasty young Master cut off Kreacher's head so that he can join his ancestors?"

"No," Sirius said, and managed a smirk at Kreacher's dismay. "As I am the last male heir of the Blacks, you are bound to me, are you not?"

"Yes," Kreacher muttered sullenly. His eyes moved from Sirius' wand to stare at the floor. "Young Master is Lord Black."

"Then I order you to keep Walburga Black contained within this house, never to leave it again," Sirius said sharply. "You will not contact anyone or seek aid in any manner to help Walburga Black leave this house. She may not contact anyone in any way, and you will not assist her in anything that is not either keeping her inside or keeping her healthy and fed. Do you understand?"

"Kreacher—" Kreacher paused, his eyes narrowed as he thought over what Sirius had said. _Looking for loopholes no doubt,_ Sirius thought snidely, tapping his arm with his wand. _He should have been a prosecutor instead of an ugly maid_.

"Kreacher understands," Kreacher said, his ears drooping in submission. "Kreacher will do as nasty Master wishes."

"Good," Sirius said, nodding. Just as Kreacher went to leave, Sirius raised a hand. "Not yet," he said, motioning to his mother's motionless body. "Leave her there for now. I require the Ritual Room to be prepared for my use. Go."

"Kreacher obeys," the house-elf said, bowing stiffly before disappearing with a loud _crack_.

The moment the house-elf left, Sirius ran a hand through his hair and conjured a stool. He sat down and stared at his mother. Her arm could be reattached with relative ease. The insanity that she was afflicted with, like so many others in the family, could not be healed.

Fishing through one of his pockets, he pulled out a bag that had been Charmed to be weightless and nearly bottomless. He reached in until he found a vial, pulling it out and reading the label. _Peter Pettigrew, 1977_.

Sirius was not proud of it, but he had a vial of blood for nearly every member of the Order of the Phoenix. He also had two for each of the Marauders. He hated it, but it did not change who he was. He was a Black. The torture sessions his mother had called training had left him with the knowledge of advanced rituals, including one that used one's blood as a Blood Tracker that could be tied to anything, such as flesh or an object. Once the ritual was bound to the object, all the user had to do was clutch the object and information would appear in one's mind. It wasn't always clear, but usually it was more than enough to start a search.

Another _crack_ had Sirius pointing his wand at Kreacher, who bowed low, his ears nearly dragging on the floor. "The ritual room is ready, Lord Black."

"Good," Sirius said, standing and dismissing the stool back into nothingness. See to your other duties while I complete mine."

"Kreacher will do so," Kreacher said, bowing again before Walburga and Kreacher disappeared with the now-familiar _crack_.

"Showtime," Sirius muttered, twirling his wand nervously in his hand. He hadn't done a ritual in years, and he had hated every one of them. He had hated the feel of it, how a part of him had reveled in the power. It would have been easy to fall, to join the rest of his horrible family in their depravity. Just one more useful ritual became another, and another, until you were left a hollow shell of your former self that craved power above all else.

 _For Harry_.

He would place a Blood Tracker on Peter Pettigrew. He would find him to protect the one who was now under his protection. He would protect James and Lily's son, his last living link to them. The boy who had captured his heart the moment he had seen him, with his messy black hair and brilliant green eyes.

For his godson, Sirius Black would do anything. Even rituals that had been banned for nearly two centuries.

 _For Harry_.


	5. Chapter 5

# Chapter 4

_October 31, 1981. 10:04 PM._

The ritual room in Grimmauld Place was like most ritual rooms: damp, oppressive, and dark, with the room only lit by candles hanging from different parts of the room, giving it an eerie flickering glow. There was also a stool in the middle of the room and a chalk-drawn ritual circle that looked untouched. Sirius narrowed his eyes and waved his wand, muttering under his breath as he cast a few spells of Discernment.

 _It’s inert. Good_ , Sirius thought, walking through the circle, to the other side. _I don’t have time to deal with a still-active Circle._

At the end of the room there was a desk sitting against the far wall and a bookshelf hanging above it. It held enough books to teach any ritual a Black could possibly need. Some taught Enhancements (which every Black went through during on their seventh birthday), and Curses, one of which he would use today. It was a Curse only because it was placed on the chosen Enemy without them realizing (unless they were as powerful as Voldemort or Dumbledore), and could usually only be removed with the passage of time. In that time, the Enemy was usually hunted by the Black family until the ends of the wizarding world.

A book was already open on the desk, and to Sirius’ surprise it was open to the page that he needed. He resisted the urge to turn around to see if anyone was there.

“Fuck this creepy house,” Sirius mumbled, shrugging his shoulders and cracking his neck before he began to read.

It was a relatively simple procedure, all told. What was needed was as follows:

  1. _Vialed blood of the Enemy._
  2. _Ritually prepared Chalk._
  3. _Ritually prepared Room._
  4. _Ritually inert robes._
  5. _Hatred of the Enemy._
  6. _Ritually prepared Knife._



They were all things Sirius had in abundance, except the hatred. _Could I hate Peter?_ Sirius thought, and his mind flashed to James’ body, without a wand and defending his family. He then remembered beautiful Lily, giving her life up for her son. At the thought of their deaths, Sirius gripped the edge of the desk until the wood starting biting into his skin, blinking back tears.

With immense effort, Sirius forced the emotions back down and grimaced when he saw wet marks on the page. He jabbed his wand at the page, Vanishing them. _Yes, I could hate Peter if he led Voldemort to James and Lily. I would hunt him until he ran out of holes to hide in_.

“Kreacher!”

The house-elf appeared with a _crack_ , muttering to himself. “Young Master called again; very impatient he is. Oh yes, very insensible and impatient. What would poor Mistress say? She—”

“Be silent!” Sirius barked. He ignored Kreacher’s hurt look—the house-elf could make Voldemort feel guilty—and jabbed a finger at the open book on the desk. “This ritual requires Ritually prepared Chalk, a Ritually prepared Knife, and Ritually inert robes. Get them for me.”

“As the nasty young Master commands,” Kreacher said. He frowned, his eyes becoming slits before he snapped his fingers.

Sirius took a step back and coughed as a dusty robe brown robe appeared, draping over him. He threw it on the desk and glared at Kreacher, saying nothing as he cleaned the robe with a wave of his wand.

“Put the rest of the things on the desk in a neat and orderly fashion while disturbing nothing,” Sirius said. He rolled his eyes as Kreacher stared at the floor and didn’t move.

“Now, Kreacher!”

“Kreacher does as the Master wishes,” Kreacher muttered sullenly, and with another snap of his fingers the rest of the items appeared beside the robes, including an ancient knife that looked to have been very well-used and crusted over.

“Merlin my family is disgusting,” Sirius said, eying the knife with distaste. He couldn’t even Vanish it either. He couldn’t because it was so crusted over with old blood and gore that he might also clean off the runes that had been carved into the knife somehow. He also had neither had the time nor inclination to carefully scrape off the blood. Voldemort may be dead, but the Death Eaters were still out there, and Peter could easily lead them to Harry if given enough time.

Sirius steeled himself, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath as he began to take off his clothes until he stopped. Kreacher was still there, waiting.

“Master didn’t tell Kreacher to leave,” Kreacher said. He looked Sirius over with interest. “Blood-traitor Master is performing a ritual?”

“Blood-traitor master is performing a ritual,” Sirius said. He smirked. “I’m going to hunt down purebloods and traitors to the House of Black.”

Kreacher frowned. “Nasty young Master is truly taking up his role as Lord Black?”

“I will do whatever it takes to protect my Godson,” Sirius said, resisting the urge to kick the house-elf. “If that includes conducting banned blood rituals, then so be it.”

“Young Master is taking up his role,” Kreacher said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Mistress will die of shock.”

“Good,” Sirius said, truly smiling for the first time in what felt like months. “That would be the first good thing to happen tonight.”

Kreacher began to speak, but Sirius raised a hand, interrupting him. “Your orders are as follows,” Sirius began, glaring at Kreacher until he subsided and unwillingly began to listen. “Your orders regarding my mother are to be followed as before, but the house must now also be locked down. Engage all the houses defenses and let no one in. I don’t care who knocks on the front door, but you will give them one verbal warning spoken loud and clear that they are to leave. If they continue to try and break in, you may use deadly force. Kill any who try to break into the house until the ritual is completed. Do you understand, Kreacher?”

To Sirius’ dark amusement, the house-elf said nothing, staring at Sirius open-mouthed before he visibly shook himself and spoke.

“Kreacher will always serve the Ancient and Noble House of Black,” he said, bowing low. “Kreacher will do as Lord Black demands.”

“Good,” Sirius said tonelessly. He was officially reclaiming his birthright, something that he had always sworn never to do. He didn’t know how to feel: shocked, appalled, or both. “Go.”

The house-elf nodded and apparated away, leaving Sirius alone in the Ritual Room.

Sirius nodded to himself, took a deep breath, and stripped down. The stone underneath his feet was cold, but he ignored it as he threw on the robe. It was scratchy and itchy; even though it had been cleaned, the mingled scent of blood and dust was still very much evident.

Sirius picked up his wand and thrust it at the ritual circle, dismissing it. Then he picked up the chalk off the desk and began to draw. It was a circle inscribed with runes all the way around. The first circle spoke of the House of Black, its glories and its misdeeds both. The second circle within the first spoke of himself, what he had done and what he planned to do. The third circle inside of the second was about Peter, why Sirius hated him and why he wanted to find him.

 _Prodidit fratrem suisque_ , Sirius wrote, finishing the third circle. _He betrayed my brother and his family_. He carefully rose, doing his utmost not to disturb the three circles, which were inert and had to remain as they were before the ritual was to begin.

Tossing the chalk on the desk beside his wand, Sirius grabbed the knife and the vial of blood. He opened the vial but did not pour it. He stepped back into the middle of the three circles and began to chant in Latin:

_Ego Sirius Black._

_Mater Magia, voca me audire:_

_Te rogamus vos._

_Invenient mihi qui incredulus est infideliter, Peter Pettigrew._

_Salva me secaboque defendat._

_Mater Magia, voca me audire:_

_Praesto magica sanguine sanguis inimicus._

_Mater Magia, voca me audire!_

Upon completing his plea, Sirius felt a deep ache within his chest. He looked down, and the circles were glowing a vibrant white. Grabbing the hilt of his knife, Sirius sliced his hand deeply, unable to keep himself from grunting in pain. He clenched his fist, not allowing any of the blood to drop and then opened his hand, pouring the vial of Peter’s blood onto his bloodied hand.

Then he allowed the blood to drip, and upon the first drop hitting the floor the heaviness in Sirius’ chest doubled. Vertigo threatened to topple him, but he managed to stay upright.

A flood of magic crashed out from him, and Sirius could do nothing but stand and wait as the magic of the ritual judged him. Soon, he felt the heaviness move from his chest to his head. Sirius blinked at the abrupt headache as something began to go through his memories.

 _Help me_ , Sirius prayed, thinking of Harry, of James and Lily, and even Remus. Remus, who he had thought had been the traitor all along. _Half of my family is dead. Help me protect the other half_.

There was a sense of approval from the presence, mixed with something else. Anger? The moment Sirius tried to puzzle it out, the weight doubled again. It was as heavy as an anvil. He staggered and caught himself with a snarl.

 _HELP ME PROTECT HARRY!_ Sirius mentally bellowed. There was a scream, and he realized that it was himself that was screaming. He felt hot, and Sirius ripped off his robe and threw it off himself blindly, even as the pain made him stumble and fall. He was caught, but not by himself. There was a barrier around the circle, and Sirius kept screaming even as the dark basement brightened to become almost blinding.

A moment later, he found himself leaving. He flew upward, through the basement and through the house, up hundreds of feet into the air. He had no corporal form or anything that would make him human. He couldn’t feel the cold wind in his face as he was both formless and invisible. This did not bother Sirius. He was too busy trying to keep himself sane.

Everything Sirius saw, he understood. He knew that the woman walking down a busy side-street was stressed about unpaid bills. He knew that a boy hawking his newspapers on another road couldn’t wait to receive for his Hogwarts letter. It was too much, and he was beginning to lose himself in what was being shown to him.

_PETTIGREW! SHOW ME PETER PETTIGREW!_

Mercifully, Sirius found himself moved from London into the countryside, far away from the Muggles and into the wizarding world. He saw mansions, Diagon Alley, houses, farmland, and people coming and going. He saw Lucius Malfoy in his study, bleeding heavily and being tended to by Narcissa. He saw other Death Eaters being tended to as well, including Bellatrix. She thrashed and screamed as a pair of healers held her down.

Sirius _saw_. Even in less populated areas of Britain, it was too much. He screamed again. Almost as if in response, he began to move faster than he could comprehend. The woods he flew towards looked remarkably familiar.

 _Peter’s house,_ Sirius thought. If he had a body he would have shaken his head. _He said that he had abandoned it months ago. I was such a fool_. _We all were for trusting him_.

As Sirius neared the house, he found the pain receding. It came suddenly, like a wave of water being pulled back into the ocean. Sirius fell through the roof of Peter’s house and into his living room. He was talking to himself as he paced back and forth.

“I shouldn’t have done it…” Peter muttered. He ran a shaking hand through his thin brown hair. He was dressed in simple grey robes. His eyes darted about nervously, as if he were expecting shadows to leap out at him. “I can’t believe I…” Peter paused and placed a hand on his arm, where his Dark Mark would be under his robes.

“James and Lily,” Peter said softly. His chin trembled and he sniffled, wiping a hand over his eyes. “I—”

Sirius wished he could have smirked when Peter jumped in alarm.

 _Peter, I don’t know if you can hear me,_ Sirius thought. _I know what you did. You will rot in Azkaban forever._

“Who are you?!” Peter shouted. He flicked his wrist, and his wand fell from its sheath into his waiting hand. He spun in a circle; shakily raising his wand. “Get out of my house!”

 _I will, but don’t go too far, Peter. I will find you,_ Sirius projected a snarl, and then he was moving forward and into Peter’s wrist. The last thing he heard was Peter’s screams as he felt a brand form on both their wrists.

Sirius came back to himself. He was on his knees, panting. He stood, swaying drunkenly as he stepped out of the circle.

“K-Kreacher,” Sirius slurred. He opened and closed his eyes rapidly. He slapped his cheeks. _Why am I so affected by this ritual? The book said nothing about this_.

Sirius looked down at his freshly branded wrist. It was the mark of a rat. When he pressed a thumb on it he got the distinct sense of where Peter was. Right now, he was in his bedroom, frantically searching for something. All he felt and saw were impressions and vague shapes that could mean anything. He also saw Peter scrubbing at his wrist anxiously, which made Sirius smirk. _That won’t ever be coming off, Peter. Not until I find you and take you down_.

But one thing was for sure: Sirius now definitely knew where Peter Pettigrew was.

“Lord Black called?”

Sirius looked down and saw Kreacher waiting for him. He was staring at Sirius’ wrist with something akin to awe.

“Yes, I did,” Sirius said. He turned his wrist so Kreacher could see it. “I will be hunting the traitor, Kreacher. I will need your help.”

“Lord Black need only ask,” Kreacher said, bowing low. “Kreacher will help.”

“Good,” Sirius said, and smiled. Kreacher smiled back at him for the first time, and the two shared grins that did not reach their eyes. “Good.”


	6. Chapter 5

# Chapter 5

_October 31, 1981. 11:21 PM._

"Peter!" Sirius shouted as he threw open Peter's front door. It had been locked, but a few Charms was nothing for him to force through. "Come out, Peter!"

No answer. Sirius looked around for a moment, then waved his wand and cast a few quiet spells. He looked for traps or anything else that may be lurking about for unwanted visitors. It pained Sirius to think that Peter may think of him as an enemy, given that he had led Voldemort to James and Lily's—

Sirius paused, blinking hard as tears welled in his eyes. He shook his head and crept forward a few steps, wincing as the floorboards creaked under the carpet. After another moment, Sirius finished his last spell and lowered his wand, relaxing slightly. There was no spells or traps waiting for him, so Sirius took a moment to take stock of his surroundings.

Peter's cottage—like Peter himself—wasn't much to look at. The red carpets were something that the Gryffindor in him approved of, but Sirius had never liked Peter's house. Like all wizarding houses, they were much bigger on the inside. Having grown up a proper little Pureblood lord and not wanting for anything material, Peter's sparsely furnished house always made him feel self-conscious. It had been everything else that he had wanted.

In the kitchen, there were a few rickety tables and chairs that had seen better days. Likewise, the living room contained multicoloured chairs that were probably older than he was. Sirius ignored all that. He ignored the memories of good times that he had had with Peter and his friends here when they would play anything that caught their fancy. He ignored everything and hurried to Peter's bedroom, which had a bed, bedside table, and a dresser that all looked like it was about to fall apart.

The tracking spell had led him here, to Peter's house. He had been told not to go back here. The war made it too dangerous, but he had never obeyed that order. Unsurprisingly, Peter had hidden himself somewhere. Despite how pathetic he looked; Peter Pettigrew was a capable wizard. Sirius shook his head and walked over to the desk, angrily throwing open a drawer.

It was full of letters. Sirius grabbed a handful and began to read. They were nothing really, apparently Peter was a bit of a pack rat with all his correspondence.

Sirius paused for a moment. _Pack rat_ , he thought, smirking. Then he shook himself, forcing himself to be professional as he kept reading the letters. There were a lot of letters to his mother, and more from the Marauders when they had been separated during the summer. All innocuous and all perfectly innocent.

Too innocent.

Sirius started grabbing notes from the drawer, throwing them onto the desk. He did that under the drawer was empty. When it was empty, he saw a faint black mark in the middle of the drawer. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough to catch one's eye if they were searching for it. It was also brimming with magic, so Sirius drew his wand and tapped the mark.

Sirius jabbed his wand and threw up a _Protego_ as the mark flared. Cautiously, he let the shield go when a key appeared there, replacing the mark. Sirius snapped his wand at it, testing it with some more revealing spells, and frowned when nothing came up. He picked up the key and stared at it. It was a black and cold metal key that would fit into either a small chest or door.

He spun around the room, looking for where the key would go. There was nothing. He turned to the closet and opened it, revealing a trap door underneath there but no keyhole. He placed the key on the trap door, and it vanished along with the trap door, revealing a ladder leading down to a darkened basement.

The ladder was made of wood, but a strange type of wood he had never seen before. Sirius ran a hand along it, fascinated. It was metallic and magically inert, as if it were there specifically to be non-reactive. When Sirius climbed down and reached the basement, a whispered _Lumos_ revealed a large room that held a potions lab, a shower, and a stand holding a white mask and black robes.

"No," Sirius said, walking over to the stand. He touched the robes and felt fine fabric. It was out of Peter's league financially and was a type of fabric that Lucius and other purebloods preferred to wear.

Sirius yanked the robe off the stand, sending it to the ground with a crash. He stomped on the mask, breaking it. A shouted " _Incendio_!" and both the mask and robes were alight, burning merrily in the basement.

Sirius walked over to the potions lab, looking at the vials. There was at least a score of them, and they all had labels. There was Ageing Potion, Amortentia, Malevolent Mixture, and Girding Potion, which Sirius opened, checked, and drank it before tossing the vial on the floor. He sighed in relief as energy coursed through his veins, rejuvenating him. He would crash later, but right now he needed the strength.

To Sirius' shock there was even an Oculus Potion, which was so expensive to make that he was utterly shocked to find it there. Even knowing that Peter had access to Death Eater funds, the potion to restore one's eyesight was ludicrously expensive, and it was just sitting in Peter's basement, waiting for a Death Eater or even Peter to chug it down.

With a cry, Sirius swiped the rest of the potions off the shelf, smashing them on the floor. He didn't even wait for the explosion or raging fire that was sure to come, apparating straight to the basement to the living room. He stomped down the hall and threw open the front door.

"PETER!" Sirius shouted, running down Peter's front porch and onto his front lawn, jumping over the steps in one bound. He had never been so enraged in his life, not even when his mother had been trying to kill him an hour ago. "PETER! I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE! COME ON OUT!"

Almost as if in response, _cracks_ of apparition sounded. Five Death Eaters appeared, dressed in full regalia.

"Sirius," Lucius' voice said with more than a hint of mocking as he bowed. "Did you really think that you would be able to escape?"

"I figured that the Aurors would finally do their jobs and arrest you lot," Sirius said, looking over Lucius' shoulder and at his general surroundings.

A woman cackled, and Sirius felt cold as he recognized that laugh once again.

"The ministry is on our side!" Bellatrix screeched. "We're here to take you in, muggle-lover!"

"Can't say that I'm interested," Sirius said, buffing his nails on his robe. "I have work to do, people to see. I'm a busy man, you know."

Lucius chuckled, his wand lowering slightly. "You always were amusing," he said, and then raised his wand again. "I wonder how… entertaining you will be after we're through with you."

"I'm full of surprises," Sirius said, looking over Lucius shoulder. "You shouldn't poke the angry Grim."

"You—" Lucius began, but Sirius mostly ignored him as he glanced over his shoulder.

Peter's front yard was moderately open field that he had roamed about in on numerous occasions with Prongs, Wormtail, and Moony. The grass was cut, which was good, but there were trees circling the whole clearing that gave him limited space to work with. There were bushes in front of the trees as well, and perhaps in one of them was where the rat was hiding. There were also rocks about half the size of one's foot littered about for some reason, but they had always been there so no one had ever dealt with them.

 _Might make it hard to keep my footing_ , Sirius thought as Lucius droned on. The full moon had been two weeks prior, so the moon was at one of its darkest points, giving even less light for him to work with.

All the other Death Eaters had their wands leveled at him, waiting to attack on Malfoy's command.

"This is great and all," Sirius said, interrupting Lucius, who started, clearly unused to such a thing ever happening to him, "but I'm here for Peter Pettigrew. Do you know him? He's short, ugly, and has a face that only a mother loves. Ring any bells?"

"No, can't say that it does," Lucius said casually, as if discussing the weather. "He's one of yours, isn't he?"

" _REDUCTO!_ "

Sirius fired the spell with all his might, aiming not at Lucius but directly in front of him. The Death Eaters had already shielded, but only their bodies. The resulting explosion threw them all off their feet, and Sirius started casting as fast as he could. He kept it standard: Blood Boilers, Stunners, Disarmers, and a few _Reductos_ to shake things up.

It was hugely draining to maintain this speed. He would last two minutes, maybe three if he kept this pace up. Even with the Girding Potion coursing through his veins it was futile.

But this was no normal duel. It was five versus one. Sirius substituted his regularly paced and powerful spells with a flurry of desperation-fueled magic.

Two Death Eaters were already down and unmoving. They weren't missing any limbs, but the first blast had thrown up so much dirt and debris that it was hard to tell. The other three were standing, but they were only Shielding. Sirius found himself beginning to slow, his magic beginning to exhaust itself.

" _AVADA KEDAVRA_!" Bellatrix screeched. Sirius turned, dodging the first spell that had been thrown at him. It struck the door behind him, blew through the wall, and into the kitchen before a muffled explosion threw Sirius off his feet.

"NO!" Lucius shouted. "We cannot kill him, Bellatrix! We need him alive!"

"Don't you ever tell me what to do!" Bellatrix shouted, but her next curse was a Cruciatus Curse instead. Sirius dodged that as well, as well as another few Curses thrown by Lucius and the other Death Eater still standing. He threw a few low-powered Curses to distract them, but he was running out of options. He was low on energy, his enemies were still strong, and it was still three on one.

Sirius turned, waving his wand and Transfiguring the debris from the railing into spears. With a jerk of his wand, the spears flew toward Bellatrix. In response, she either set them on fire or Transfigured them into butterflies or dirt.

"Kreacher, come here but silently and invisibly," Sirius muttered. He threw some more spells, including another _Reducto_ that threw up some more dirt and debris to give him some time.

The house-elf appeared with a soft _crack_ which Sirius only barely heard. "Young nasty master called?" Kreacher asked from right beside him. Sirius couldn't see him, but he sounded intrigued. "Young master is fighting good wizards and defending nasty mudbloods again. Oh, young Master has always broken Mistresses heart yet—"

"Kreacher, don't alert them in anyway. Go behind them. Lift those rocks and throw them at them. Keep them distracted," Sirius said lowly, anxiously waiting for the smoke to clear. None of the Death Eaters had moved yet, as best as he could tell. "That's an order, Kreacher. Wait for my call to begin."

"Kreacher obeys," the house-elf said, and vanished, this time with a loud _crack_.

"Where is he?!" Lucius shouted.

Sirius smirked, tapping his head with his wand and Disillusioning himself. It wouldn't hold under optimal conditions, but in near darkness he moved a few dozen feet to the side while the Death Eaters frantically searched the area.

While they searched, Sirius took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. He was exhausted, but not tired enough for one last assault. The other two Death Eaters hadn't been revived yet. Whatever they had been struck with either killed them or knocked them out hard enough where a _Rennervate_ wouldn't work.

 _Once more unto the breach_.

"NOW! _REDUCTO_!" Sirius roared. While his spell landed in front of Lucius again, Kreacher was also throwing three rocks at the back of the Death Eaters' heads.

This time Lucius shielded a few feet in front of him, so the spell was mostly absorbed, but all three rocks hit their targets. Bellatrix and the other Death Eater immediately fell, knocked unconscious. Lucius managed to jerk away at the last moment, grunting in pain and stumbling as it struck his back.

"Not afraid to fight dirty," Lucius said as he avoided another thrown rock from Kreacher. "I'm impressed, Black."

"Shut up and duel," Sirius snarled, panting as he cast another Bludgeoner.

Lucius parried the spell, sending it hurtling into the woods, but the next spell struck Lucius' in mid-air. Sirius found himself losing, his Bludgeoner rapidly being redirected toward him due to his exhaustion.

Taking care to maintain the spell, Sirius began to run toward Lucius, who took a surprised step back. He went to take another but tripped over a rock. Sirius jumped over the fallen Death Eaters and leapt at Lucius just as he began to rise.

Sirius landed on top of him, making Lucius cry out as they sprawled on the ground. Lucius tried to use his wand that he still clutched in his hand, but Sirius punched him before he could. The Death Eater's head was rocked back, his mask sliding off to reveal his bloodied face.

Sirius grabbed Lucius' wandhand with his left hand while punching him repeatedly with his right. Eventually, he pulled the wand free from Lucius and threw it behind him. Sirius was exhausted, panting, and feeling dizzy, but his arm was steady as he jabbed his wand in the Death Eater's throat.

"Do it," Lucius croaked. "Do it, Black."

"Tempting, but Narcissa would never forgive me," Sirius said. He took great pleasure in watching Lucius' eyes widen in surprise before he Stunned him.


	7. Chapter 6

# Chapter 6

_October 31, 1981. 11:33 PM._

The ground was torn up by the furious spellwork, making it look more like a battlefield than the quiet woodland that it formerly was. Holes littered the ground and dirt was scattered everywhere. It was like a giant hand had randomly grabbed pieces of earth and thrown it about.

Blood was everywhere, but no bodies. They had all fled, either through portkey or under their own power.

 _Probably portkeys tied to whether they were unconscious_ , Sirius thought angrily.

Sirius clenched his teeth. He shook with suppressed rage as he spun, his eyes wild. "PETER!" Sirius bellowed, uncaring of the spittle that flew from his lips. "I KNOW YOU ARE HERE! COME OUT!"

 _Accio Peter Pettigrew_ , Sirius thought, focusing intently on what he wanted. That was the main difference between wizards who were weak and wizards who were strong. Intent. If a wizard wanted something bad enough, he could do almost anything. Sirius smirked as the bushes a score or so paces away shook. A yellow-white _Protego_ bubble flashed, blocking his spell.

"I know you're there, Peter," Sirius said. His voice was soft, but it carried far enough that the bush stopped moving. "Come out."

Sirius watched as Peter Pettigrew slowly stepped out of the bush. He was wearing the same clothes still—plain grey robes—and he also wore the same expression he had seen when he had been tracking him: raw fear. He was holding his wand, but he was shaking so badly he wouldn't be able to hit Sirius even if he tried.

"Hello Peter," Sirius said. He smiled at him, and Peter quailed at the sight of it. "You have been busy, haven't you?"

"S-Sirius!" Peter said. His whole body trembled, and he sounded even more squeaky than usual. "Sirius, m-my old friend…"

"Be silent!" Sirius snapped, and an ugly part of him relished how Peter flinched. "You are no friend of mine, you worthless rat!"

"W-what?" Peter asked. He looked and sounded completely panicked. He was looking around the area now, and the hand holding his wand jerked. Sirius leveled his wand at Peter, and he immediately stopped moving and bowed his head.

"I tried, Sirius," Peter whispered. "I was captured during a reconnaissance mission and brought t-to _Him_. The Dark Lord tortured me, Sirius. He m-made me tell…"

"Did he?" Sirius asked. He walked towards Peter, still aiming his wand directly at Peter's forehead. "Did he actually do that, or did you immediately run to him the moment you became Secret Keeper? I bet he was incredibly pleased, Peter. So proud of his little rat that betrayed his best friends in order to save his own skin."

"He tortured me…" Peter said, his voice trailing off into a whisper. Tears fell onto the ground, and his shoulders shook, even as his head remained bowed. "I had to…"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!" Sirius bellowed, making Peter jump. "YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED, JUST AS WE WOULD HAVE DIED FOR YOU!"

"I'm not strong enough!" Peter cried, finally raising his head. His eyes were red with tears, which continued to run down his face. "I was never strong enough! People always wondered how I became friends with you and Remus and James—"

"Don't," Sirius interrupted. He jabbed his wand to Peter's forehead. The shorter man whimpered and closed his eyes. "You don't have the right to say his name. You don't have the right to even _think_ his name."

"That's all that I can think about!" Peter sobbed, wrenching his head away from Sirius' wand and taking a step back. "Do you think I wanted any of this? As part of the Marauders I meant something, Sirius. I mattered. I loved you all like the brothers that I never had."

"So did we," Sirius whispered. He took a deep, shuddering breath, banishing memories of Hogwarts and right afterwards. Of the happier times. "You were our brother, Peter. We loved you."

"I'm sorry!" Peter wept. "I'm sorry I was so weak, Sirius! I wish I had been strong like the rest of the Marauders! I wish I had fled when the war started, like so many other families did!"

"But you stayed," Sirius growled. "You stayed, fought, and then betrayed your brothers. I would kill you right now, Peter, but I want to be there when they throw you through the Veil. Drop your wand. I'll Stun you and that'll be that. Don't resist, Peter. Don't."

"I'm not going to Azkaban," Peter said quickly, shaking his head. He held his wand to his chest in both hands and began to shake again. "I'll never go there."

"Don't worry," Sirius said. "You won't be going to Azkaban. You betrayed the Potters and led Voldemort to them. You knew what was at stake, Peter. We almost lost."

"We had already lost!" Peter exclaimed, and for the first time there was anger on his face. "The war had been lost for years! The Dark Lord was playing with you all! You think he's dead?"

Peter laughed, and it was an angry and bitter thing. "The Dark Lord will return, Sirius, and no one will be able to stop him. Dumbledore is old and growing older, and the rest of Wizarding Britain is run by a pack of headless chickens. They'll sooner surrender then fight a rejuvenated Dark Lord."

"Even if I have to lead the war myself, I'll do it," Sirius said, holding a picture of Harry in his mind. _For Harry_.

Then, he finally squared himself and looked at Peter for the last time. Desperate, weak, and poor. Poor in looks, wealth, and now friends. "Goodbye, Peter."

"No!" Peter cried, sending a Stunner of his own toward Sirius, who deflected it with a snarl.

"I will kill you if you don't surrender now, Peter!"

"Do it then!" Peter snapped. He laughed and kept casting, which Sirius found to be mildly impressive. "I'd rather be killed by you then thrown through the Veil!"

Sirius said nothing, continuing his duel with Peter. The spells flew from both men's wands fast and thick, and the area was soon aglow with the colour of spells. They were red, brown, sickly yellow, and green—

"You dare cast the _Killing Curse_ on me?" Sirius said with a sneer that would have made Snape proud. He Transfigured some grass into a metal shield, which absorbed the spell. "You dare?!"

"I'm not going to Azkaban," Peter said quietly. He cast three more Killing Curses, and Sirius had to throw himself to the side to avoid them.

Sirius threw himself back to his feet, but he was too late. He could only watch as Peter finished turning on his heels and disappeared with a _crack_.

"Oh no you don't," Sirius snarled. He wrenched his robe sleeve up and slapped his hand on the Blood Tracker.

Immediately, Sirius stumbled and almost fell over. Raw information exploded into his mind as he saw through Peter's eyes. Within a few moments, Sirius lifted his hand and dismissed the images. _Malfoy Manor_ , he thought, and he was halfway through the motion of apparating there when he stopped. He couldn't go there. He was denied access. He hadn't been able to go there for a decade now, ever since he had been sorted into Gryffindor.

Thankfully, Peter would be tossed out on his fat head soon. The Malfoys were undoubtedly scrambling to put together a case for why they were innocent despite the hundreds of crimes that they had committed under Voldemort's orders.

 _They'll probably say they were under the Imperius,_ Sirius thought, snorting.

The temporary merriment almost immediately morphed into fury at Peter having escaped from him. Furious, Sirius turned back around to Peter's house, the word _Incendio_ on his lips. _All it would take is one word, and Peter's house would be reduced to rubble, just like James and Lily's._

Sirius began the wand movements but forced himself to stop. _No, the Aurors might need it for evidence._ He considered his thought, and then amended it. _Amelia Bones might need it for evidence._ Out of all the Aurors in the Ministry, the only one that he trusted not to be corrupt and try to sweep Peter's transgressions under the table was Amelia Bones. She was a formidable witch, and to his ever-lasting disappointment he had never quite managed to finagle a date out of her.

Shaking his head, Sirius pushed his thoughts away. He needed to find Peter before he went underground, or found a Death Eater suicidal enough to take him in. If he couldn't catch him within a day, he would turn the case over to Amy and the rest of the Order and lead them all on a manhunt to tear Peter apart.

"You're mine, Peter," Sirius snarled, turning on his heel and apparating away with a _crack_.


	8. Chapter 7

# Chapter 7

_November 1, 11:00 AM._

Muggle London was thick with people who didn't care or know one another. Cars honked, people talked, and there never was a quiet moment.

A childish part of Sirius reveled in the chaos he was causing as he ran down a sidewalk. He pushed through a crowd of Muggles, ignoring their angry cries as Peter Pettigrew tried to escape. The rest of him was resisting the urge to send a _Reducto_ in Peter's back and watch his body explode into tiny pieces.

"Police!" Sirius shouted, pushing through the crowd. "Out of the way!"

The crowd parted, and Sirius pointed his wand—which had been Illusioned to look like a baton—at Peter's fleeing back. "Pettigrew! Stop!"

He had gone back to Grimmauld Place and changed out his blood and sweat-stained robes. He had then put on Transfigured clothes that Muggles would normally wear, such as blue jeans and a white t-shirt. He kept his dragon-hide boots, as they were just boots and wouldn't raise many eyebrows.

 _And now I'm chasing Peter through the streets of London,_ Sirius thought as Peter turned the corner and went down an alleyway. _I've raised many eyebrows already_.

Sirius rounded the corner and threw up a _Protego_ as a bright red bolt came hurtling toward him, smashing into his shield.

"You've been holding out on me Peter," Sirius said. He let the Illusion on his wand vanish and aimed at the ground in front of Peter. " _Reducto!_ "

Peter's eyes widened, but he said nothing and jumped, turning himself sideways and transforming into his Animagus form as a rat. The _Reducto_ hit a few feet in front of where he had been standing, but Peter had managed to avoid the spell.

But he couldn't avoid the resulting explosion, and Peter was thrown forward, hurtling head over tail. Just before he hit the ground, he transformed back, landing on one knee a few feet in front of Sirius. He then rolled to avoid a second, less explosive _Reducto_.

He transformed into a rat again, but this time Sirius was ready.

" _Accio_!"

Peter flew into Sirius hand, and he began to squeeze. Peter squeaked as his bones began crack and pop, but Sirius kept squeezing. "I don't care if you're crippled," Sirius hissed, raising the rat higher so he could look him in his beady brown eyes. "You're going through the Veil if I have to hurl you through it myself."

Peter squeaked again, louder and more desperate as he began to struggle. Sirius kept squeezing, snarling at Peter. He was the one had destroyed his brother in all but blood and Lily, who he had eventually come to see as a sister. That wasn't even mentioning little Harry, who was now without his parents. My _godson_ , _now_. _My charge and mine to protect_.

Peter stopped thrashing and bit Sirius, and instinctively his hand opened. Peter fell to the ground and transformed, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "I… won't… go to Azkaban," Peter huffed. He got to his feet and batted away a curse from Sirius. He stumbled while still parrying and shielding Sirius' spells until he managed to twist and apparate away.

Sirius whirled, snarling as screams sounded behind him. He ran out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk. Peter was surreptitiously waving his wand that was hidden underneath his robe sleeve, making the car come to a complete stop.

"Stop him!" Sirius shouted. He changed a pebble into another baton and _Accio-ed_ it into his hand. He waved it over his head. "That man is a murderer who's trying to escape justice! Don't let him get away!"

A Muggle ran forward, a bulky man who looked like he played Rugby or some other Muggle sport. He tried to tackle Peter, but Peter instead stabbed forward with his wand. Sirius watched Peter's lips moved and the Muggle fell back, bleeding heavily. The crowds screamed again and began to run, leaving the Muggle to die in the middle of road.

"No!" Sirius snarled. He began shoving through the crowd. "Out of my way! Police!"

The crowds parted just enough to let Sirius through. He was on Peter's tail again. Peter ran down a road and into what seemed like a main street, with even more traffic and Muggles to potentially worry about.

"Stop!" Sirius shouted again, and miraculously Peter listened, turning around to face him. There were a dozen people behind him, and he was aiming his wand back at them. Sirius narrowed his eyes. _He's taking hostages now, in the middle of Muggle London? Why?_

"Surrender, Pettigrew," Sirius said, stepping forward. He cast an Illusion so that he looked more the part of a Muggle Auror, complete with their blue uniform and funny hat. "The Au—Police on their way. Give up!"

"Lily and James, Sirius!" Peter shouted. He held a knife in one hand and his wand in the other. Tears were running down his face again and Sirius stepped back, confused. "How could you?!"

Sirius watched, numb as Peter's tear-streaked face and trembling lips morphed into the beginnings of a sneer. He then snarled, silently casting the most powerful _Reducto_ that Sirius had ever seen anyone cast. Normally white tinged with grey, the spell was now pure white. It slammed into the ground behind Peter with such force that Sirius was thrown off his feet.

There were more screams as Sirius hit the ground hard, smacking his head. His Illusion faded, and he could only groan and shield his face as more explosions rocked the world around him. Oblivion called, and Sirius wanted desperately to answer it. He didn't, as the thought of abandoning Harry made Sirius groan and push himself to one knee.

It was a massacre. The dozen Muggles Sirius had seen were completely gone, only bloodstains showing that they had existed. Sirius blinked rapidly, trying to clear his bleary gaze until he saw a small figure running toward the sewers at the side of the road. It was a brown rat that looked remarkably like Peter Pettigrew's Animagus form. The rat was missing a finger, which was on the ground in front of him. Everyone would think Peter was dead, and Sirius the betrayer of Lily and James along with the murderer of the Muggles.

 _Little Peter just pranked me,_ Sirius thought in disbelief. _It's a prank worth of a Marauder_.

Sirius began to laugh and found that he couldn't stop. He laughed, even as the _cracks_ of apparition sounded and Aurors began to surround him. "We have him," a voice said near Sirius. "We have the traitor."

"I killed them," Sirius said, still laughing as tears ran down his cheeks. _I made James choose Peter as the Secret Keeper_. "I killed James and Lily. I killed them."

"Yes you did," the voice replied tersely. "You murdered the Potters."

Sirius didn't respond. He just kept laughing at the irony of it. Peter Pettigrew had finally pulled a prank and framed him while doing so! If it had been any other situation Sirius would have felt proud, but instead he only felt self-hatred at his own stupidity for trusting someone so weak.

"I killed them," Sirius gasped, shaking off hands that were gripping his shoulders. "I killed James and Lily. They're dead because of me."

"We're not going to get anything out of him," the voice said again. "Stun him."

Immediately, Sirius saw a flash of red in the corner of his eyes. _I'm sorry James,_ Sirius thought, and then surrendered to oblivion as the Stunner struck him. _I'm sorry._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you can, please review.


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